Wednesday, March 5, 2014

Minimalism.

It's like scales falling from my eyes. Finding something like this during a packing/decluttering binge and thinking "What the?".


I must have scavenged it from my parents or grandparents. Still in original 70s packaging. 4 soup bowls with lids. Now, they would make cute little tureens, so somebody might want them, but why have I been carrying them from house to house and dutifully putting them right at the back of some cupboard every time I unpack? It's insanity, when you think about it. Utter lunacy.

I've come to the point where decluttering and frugalism has merged, and I want to think of myself as a minimalist, even though I probably won't look like one from the outside. I'd like to be able to fit all my possessions into one car, but that isn't going to happen. Once you've got stuff and you're used to using it, it's hard to justify getting rid of it just so you can meet a romantic criteria of nomadic minimalism. But I'm seriously tightening up my definition of "useful" and resisting the lure of shopping to improve my life.

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